Secrets
by Literary Assassin
Summary: Emily has stumbled upon a secret and isn't sure she can cope with keeping it. What happens when it all comes out? How will she cope? Entry for the Mirandy Year of Fun and Frolics. Card 1 - Secret(s).


**A/N: I don't usually write Emily, but I've enjoyed playing with her for a while in this one.  
This is an entry for the Mirandy Year of Fun and Frolics Bingo Challenge. Card 1. Secret(s)**

 **Disclaimer:** All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author of this story. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any previously copyrighted material. No copyright infringement is intended.

-0-

"Bloody hell, bloody hell, bloody hell," Emily whispered, closing the door to Serena's office and sliding down the back of it.

"Em?"

"Oh God," Emily said, ignoring Serena's query. "Oh God."

"Emily, you're scaring me," Serena said, moving kneel in front of Emily.

Emily finally looked up. She could feel Serena's worry through the gentle touch of her hand, but she couldn't do it. She couldn't bring herself to tell.

"I can't."

"What?" Serena asked, looking perplexed. "You can't what?"

"I can't tell."

"Okay," Serena said with a shrug. "It's not," she bit her lip. "It's not about us though, right?"

"No," Emily shook her head. "No, no, no."

"Well, that's okay then."

She smiled that smile that made Emily's insides turn to blancmange.

"Thank you," Emily whispered, her finger twitching to touch Serena's hand.

"It's okay. Now, shouldn't you go back to your desk?"

"Bollocks. Yes."

She ran out the door and was halfway down the corridor before she realised what she'd done and turned around. She raced through the door and pecked Serena on the cheek.

"Thanks," she breathed, racing away and sliding into her desk barely ten seconds before Miranda breezed out of her office with barely a glance at Emily.

"Coat, bag."

Emily glanced up at Andy's empty desk and cursed the stupid fat girl once more before jumping up and once again fulfilling the stupid girl's duty.

"Coffee when I return," Miranda barely whispered and sauntered out of the office.

Andy came out of Miranda's office drying her hand on a towel and Emily nearly wretched.

"God you can't be serious," she spat, venom dripping from every syllable.

"What?" Andy said, that stupid look on her face doing nothing to hide the satisfaction on her big fat face.

"I love my job," Emily spat, glaring at Andy before turning back to the schedule and typing furiously to try and get the thoughts in her head to stop firing around her brain like cannonballs.

-0-

"I cannot do this much longer," Emily whispered shakily as she, once again, found herself sliding down the back of Serena's office door.

"And you still can't tell me what it is?" Serena asked, smiling gently as she helped Emily up off the floor and sat her in a seat.

"I can't Serena. I want to, believes me, I so want to," she swallowed the bile rising in her throat. "But I just cannot."

"Okay," Serena said, as she always did. "Here, you may as well do something useful." Emily took the samples out of her hand along with the palette of colour. "Choose."

"I can't!" Emily squeaked.

"You can," Serena smiled. "I trust you, and I trust your eye. Pick one."

Emily looked at Serena for a beat before doing as she was told. The concept of what she was doing was terrifying, but what she had escaped was even more so. She'd rather be faced with Miranda's wrath at leaving the phones unattended than sit and listen to. Well. She'd rather be here, bathing in Serena's light than anywhere else.

She'd made peace with that fact. It, of course, couldn't go anywhere. Serena was a goddess and she was just dumpy Emily. Serena could have her pick of anyone and there wasn't a chance she was ever going to pick Emily, so she soaked up whatever attention Serena threw her way. It was pathetic really, but she cared less and less.

"Is there some reason you have absconded from your duties?"

"That was my fault Miranda," Serena said, before Emily could even open her mouth. "I needed her to help me with something before the run through later."

"And what do I pay you for?" Miranda looked down her nose at Serena.

"To give you the best, and I am doing so."

"Hmm."

Emily finally looked up and gulped, feeling the burn as her face went beet red. She looked away, staring at the ceiling before she would ever meet Miranda's eye.

"Emily, is there some unfathomable reason that you are pretending to be a beetroot? Is this a new trend we are setting? Is my magazine going to be at the forefront of new colour palettes for pale English women?"

"No Miranda," she almost choked out.

"Your shirt's buttoned up wrong Miranda," Serena said, meeting Emily's eye for a second. "I think you've missed one."

And that was it. Emily didn't wait any longer to escape, back to her desk and breathed long and hard while Andy sauntered out of Miranda's office, once again drying her hands on a white towel.

"Stupid bloody cow," she seethed.

"I really don't get what your problem is," Andy said with a shrug. "What have I ever done to you?"

-0-

"Nothing will persuade you to tell me what is bothering you so?" Serena tried once more.

"No," Emily said, throwing back the last half of her G&T. "I can't. It's not worth my life."

"May I guess?" Serena asked, flicking her hair back in a way that made Emily lose her breath.

"I suppose," she sighed.

"Miranda is," Serena winced as she thought about something. "How do you say porra ao redor," she took another healthy swig of her drink. "Fucking around?"

Emily spat her drink across the bar and choked until she felt Serena's hand slapping her on the back. She coughed and coughed until she finally got her breathing under control.

"You can't do that!" She slapped Serena's thigh. "You cannot ever do that."

"You said I could guess no?"

"Yes, but that," Emily was flustered and she knew it. "That -"

"Exactly what's going on?"

"Yes, okay. Fine. Yes. They're," she swallowed. "They're -"

"Fucking."

"Hush! Don't say that. I don't know what they're doing."

"Yes, you do."

Emily let her head drop onto the bar and groaned.

"Come on querida. Let's go. We'll watch a movie and drink a bottle of wine and it'll look better in the morning."

"Serena, I can't," Emily get up but hesitated to take Serena's hand.

"Yes you can," she reached forward and tangled their fingers together. "See. Easy."

Emily didn't know what was happening. Nothing made sense anymore.

-0-

"Oh Andréa, yes. Right there."

Emily's eyebrows shot up her forehead again and her breath quickened. She had no idea what to do, she was halfway in the doorway that had remained open and she froze.

"Urgh."

Memories of the night before when she, herself had uttered those same sounds overcame her and she dropped everything she was carrying.

"Is there some reason you're darkening the doorway?" Miranda asked ominously.

"No, I, I had. The door. I -"

"Stop babbling," Miranda said, causing Emily to almost swallow her tongue. "Bring me the reports."

Emily blinked, wondering why Miranda would want the reports right then. She wondered absently whether Andy was even doing it right.

"Today Emily."

She sprang into action and gathered up the papers, keeping her head down until she reached the desk. There was no way she wanted to look up. Nothing would make her look up.

"Perhaps she had a bad bit of cheese," Nigel's voice came from behind her.

She fainted.

-0-

Her dreams were full of terrifying visions of Nigel with no shirt on, and Andy bloody Sachs twitching her fingers and Miranda's head thrown back, uttering noises that no sane person needed to hear.

"Em. Come on Em, snap out of it."

"What the hell happened?"

Serena! Oh, some sanity at last. Serena was here and it was going to be alright.

"I was in the middle of a meeting with Nigel and she fainted," Emily could almost hear the pursed lips. "Honestly, how much food does this silly woman eat."

"Not a lot I think," Andy bloody Sachs said. Traitor.

"No. She is often too busy avoiding you two."

Oh God Serena no! Why would she say that? Emily closed her eyes tighter and feigned unconsciousness.

"I beg your pardon."

"Don't you think it's a bit unprofessional for you two to be 'at it' during work hours?" Serena asked, to dead silence.

"What?"

Andy was stupid. Emily knew it and now everyone else knew it too.

"Emily," Serena clarified. "She's been avoiding being here while you two were -"

She didn't get any further when Andy bloody Sachs started laughing. LAUGHING!

"No, no Serena," she couldn't get control of herself. There was a bit of muffled laughter and Emily almost wanted to open her eyes.

"Oh for heaven's -" there was a shuffle and a delicate hand touched her shoulder. "Emily, you will wake up this instance.

She snapped open her eyes, the Pavlovian response too great for her to avoid.

"While I thank you for your," Miranda's lips were pursed but this was not anger or disappointment. Emily blinked. Was she laughing? "Candour, let us say, there is nothing going on that is untoward in this office. And I would kindly ask you to return to your duties."

"But," Emily looked at Andy who had tears rolling down her face as she tried to hold in her laughter. "But."

"That's all."

Everyone filed out of the office without question, but Emily rounded on Andy as she followed them out, letting out a huge guffaw as soon as the door was closed.

"You bitch."

"No," Andy laughed. "No, you don't understand. Her," she laughed some more. "Her masseuse. She's broken her wrist. I'm trained, I was filling in. She got more work done that way."

What?"

"You thought I was -"

"She was groaning!" Emily spluttered, looking at everyone, who were now valiantly trying to hold back their grins. "She was groaning and asking you to do it harder and then you walked out with a smug grin wiping your bloody hands, what was I supposed to think?"

"You could have asked?" Andy giggled.

"Well bollocks to you," she looked at Nigel. "And you."

"And me?" Serena asked, wearing a smoky look in her eye.

"Well, no. But yes, for laughing." She stormed around her desk and flopped down in her chair, logging into the network. "Bollocks to the lot of you. Now piss off and leave me to work. I hate you all."

"I really am sorry Em," Andy said. "I truly thought you knew."

"Shut up. I'm not talking to you for the remainder of the day. I hate you and I love my job."

She repeated the mantra in her head until it played on repeat.

"Emily?"

She gulped and glanced at the clock. Five minutes before she could escape this place and get roaring drunk to try and combat the horrendous embarrassment she'd been sitting with for the last 3 hours.

"Yes Miranda," she said, refusing to look at the woman.

"Emily?"

There was a beat where Emily panicked, thinking she had done something wrong and glanced at the editor for a moment. Then she was trapped. She met the woman's eyes and for once didn't feel like a fraud in front of this magnificent woman. She squared up and met the 2000W stare.

"That's better," Miranda smiled. "Starting tomorrow, you'll be working directly under Nigel. You will be responsible for finding new talent and generating that talent into ideas that will benefit the magazine. I trust you will not disappoint me."

"Yes Miranda," she breathed, before realising what it was that she had meant to say. "I mean, no Miranda."

"Very well. Nigel and Serena are no doubt waiting to congratulate you on your promotion, you may leave. Send Andréa in on your way out."

"Yes Miranda," she turned to leave before turning back. "Thank you Miranda."

"That's all," Miranda muttered, already having moved onto the next thing.

She gathered her own bag and coat and turned to Andy, looking hard at her before nodding.

"Good luck."

"Well done Em," she smiled, that smug smile again.

It was only when she was halfway down the hall that she turned back and stood in the doorway. Miranda was smiling - SMILING - up at Andy, holding her hand. She nodded to herself once and left.

She wasn't an idiot after all.

But she was still, definitely, getting drunk.


End file.
